


On Lemons And Army Songs

by icarus_chained



Category: Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy - Douglas Adams, The Avengers (2012)
Genre: Alcohol, Crossover, Drunken Shenanigans, Fluff and Crack, Friendship, Gen, Prompt Fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-09
Updated: 2013-08-09
Packaged: 2017-12-22 22:50:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,416
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/918935
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/icarus_chained/pseuds/icarus_chained
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tiny crack crossover, for a prompt. In an effort to get Steve drunk past the supersoldier serum, Tony introduces him to something he picked up from Ford Prefect back in the day: Pan Galactic Gargle Blasters. Pepper, as per usual, ends up having to pick up the pieces.</p><p>ETA: Quick second chapter based on a follow-up prompt: Arthur Dent drops 'round the Tower for tea one morning. Tony hasn't had enough coffee yet to deal with it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Pepper stared. Even with what felt like four lifetimes' worth of living with Tony behind her, she couldn't really help it.

Steve, for his part, gave her a wide, floppy grin, his eyes warm and frankly admiring, and almost faceplanted tipsily into her lap in an effort to plant a sloppy, gentlemanly kiss on her hand. He scrambled hastily backwards, promptly fell over, and then spent an earnest thirty seconds or so apologising profusely to her ankles while his ears went steadily more luminous.

Pepper blinked, slow and careful. Then she offered the poor man a bright, cheerful smile, asked him if he could just wait _one_ minute, and then grabbed Tony by the arm and practically frogmarched him out into the hall.

"What did you _do_?" she hissed, glaring right down the barrel of Tony's stupid, lopsided grin. "Did you _poison_ Captain America? I swear to God, Tony, if you've poisoned Steve I will _disown_ you right here and now ..."

"Woah, wait!" Tony threw up his hands, waved them placatingly in her face. "Woah, Pep, heh. No poisoning people. We agreed that, I remember that, I only accidently poisoned Rhodey _once_. It never happened again, did it? Relax." He glanced downwards, looking somewhere between penitent and smugly, childishly delighted at his own genius, and Pepper felt her stomach drop instinctively in dread. "He was moping, you know? And I offered to get him drunk, and he told me the serum meant he couldn't anymore, and that was just a crime, that is actually a crime to condemn a man to who knows how long a life without even the _option_ of drowning his sorrows once in a while, so I might have ..."

Pepper squeezed her eyes shut. "You might have ...?" she prompted, with a tone that _strongly_ suggested she didn't actually want to hear the answer. Tony chuckled softly at her, and easily dodged the short punch she threw his way.

"So I might have pulled out the big guns," he went on, waving absently. "You remember Ford Prefect? Did you meet Ford? Might have been Rhodey, no, it was _definitely_ Rhodey. The first time. I think. Ah." He paused, screwing up his face in an effort to remember. "Okay, help me out. You remember Ford, right?"

Pepper stared at him for a long, _long_ second. Tony gradually fell silent, possibly sensing the bright, lazy cloud of distant anger floating behind her suddenly bright smile. After a second, he started to look genuinely alarmed.

"Yes, I remember Ford Prefect," Pepper said, very lightly. "He called me a gorgeous sunset, asked me to hold his goldfish, offered to show me where his towel was, threw up on my shoes, and then asked me which way to the roof, he had to catch a lift with a friend who was flying past." She gripped his arm, leaning close. Not quite as threatening as Natasha, maybe, but more than sufficient to make Tony flinch. "Tony. Darling. Tell me you didn't do what I think you did. _Tell me_ you did not introduce Steve Rogers to a _Pan Galactic Gargle Blaster_?" 

He blinked rapidly, making a valiant attempt at a casual grin that slipped rather rapidly back off his face. "Um. Okay? I mean, you told me never to lie to you, but if you want to make an exception this time, I can go with that ..."

He cut off hastily at the growl of frustration that ripped out of her, now not even bothering to disguise his alarm. Vaguely, she noticed that he was surreptitiously trying to pry her fingers from around his arm without, you know, actually drawing any more attention to himself in the process. She didn't shake him. She was _tempted_ , but she didn't shake him.

"... Alright," she said, after a long moment. Stepping back, letting Tony have his arm back. She brushed her hair out of her face, glancing involuntarily back towards the den as rough, surprisingly pleasant singing started up. She flushed a little at the lyrics. Living with Tony and Rhodey probably ought to have jaded her, but for some reason hearing an explicit army song sung by _Steve Rogers_ was ... different.

Tony, beside her, stared at the closed door for a stunned second, and then looked back at her with eyes that were slowly widening in realisation of what he'd done.

" _Now_ you figure it out," she grumbled, and stabbed a finger in his direction. " _I_ am going to buy stock in ibuprofen, on the off-chance that it somehow manages to dent a hangover caused by something the _serum_ couldn't stop. _You_ are going back in there to make sure there are no goldfish involved, that there are no attempts at unaided flight, and that nothing that happens to that poor man because of this comes back to bite him." She leaned in close, smiled with all her teeth. "And, Tony? If there is any mention of towels _whatsoever_ because of this, _you_ will be the one getting your brains smashed with a gold brick. Are we clear?"

He nodded rapidly, hand on heart, and for a second she almost thought he was going to be serious about this. For one very, very brief second. Then he offered her his best, shiniest grin, and asked: 

"Will you wrap the brick in a slice of lemon first?"


	2. On Coffee and Early-Morning Flights

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Arthur drops 'round the Tower for tea one morning. Tony hasn't had enough coffee for this.

A man in striped pajamas and a fluffy dressing gown flew up onto the Iron Man landing deck, stumbling a little on the landing and cursing under his breath. Tony, who had only just started on his morning coffee, took a few moments just to blink to himself.

"Hello, Tony," Arthur said, shambling over and looking hopefully at the cup for a second before figuring out it wasn't tea. "Ford been by yet?"

Tony opened his mouth. Thought better of it, closed it again. And then, when Arthur kept blinking owlishly at him, he tried again.

"I'm not drunk," he announced, hoping it came out less like a question than it sounded in his head. Arthur, for his part, only looked briefly confused.

"Er. Good?" the Englishman tried, looking quizzically at him. "I'm not sure what that has to do with ... Well, no, actually I can see how that might have a _lot_ to do with whether or not Ford's been by. Right. So. He hasn't, then?"

Tony shook his head rapidly, not in answer so much as to clear it, and hurriedly downed the entire cup in one long draught. The caffeine hit his blood with an almost audible sizzle, and he blinked a couple more times until he thought he'd managed to boot the rest of the way up.

"I mean," he said, more slowly this time, "the last time I saw you do that ..." He waved his hand carefully. "The flying thing? You know. The last time I saw you do that, I could have sworn blind it was just because I'd had half a shot of Gargle Blaster and the ceiling was singing." He paused. "Though, admittedly, that might have been JARVIS. It wouldn't be like him, though."

Arthur squinted warily at him. "Are you sure that's coffee?" he asked, very mildly. "I mean, I don't judge, but it's only 8am and Ford will be by soon. You might want to pace yourself, you know?"

Tony glared at him. " _I didn't know you could actually fly_ ," he grit out, privately thinking that if the rest of the day was going to be like this, no, it _wouldn't_ be coffee he was drinking, and no, he wasn't likely to be pacing himself either.

"Oh!" Arthur beamed, the metaphorical lightbulb finally going off. "Right. Sorry mate. It's been a while since I've had to be Earth-normal. I'd forgotten you don't do that." He paused, blinked a little to himself. "I'm not sure that's a good thing, now that I think of it ..."

And there were ... probably a lot of things Tony could have said to that. A lot of things he _would_ have said to that, three years and several rather important life changes ago. Right now, though, he was abruptly remembering that the scientist four floors down turned into a giant green rage monster on bad days, and sometimes the alien god of thunder dropped by for a chat.

Put in that context ...

"Nah," he said easily, leaning over to sling his arm around Arthur's shoulders. "Not even Earth-normal has been Earth-normal lately. Don't worry about it, buddy. You'll fit _right_ in."


End file.
